Friday, July 6, 2007

The reading is great

If the writings of the atheists are so much more in vogue today than anything by the "believers" (and they are more in vogue, aren't they?), I'm wondering whether it isn't because what the atheists are saying seems more to the point and sometimes even more inspirational?

At any rate, I'm relishing the latest "atheist book," God Is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything. And I don't even grant that "religion poisons everything," which is an obviously overgrasping, sell-some-more-books sort of thing to say. Plus, if God actually exists, then I'm certain that He (or She or It) is very great indeed, thank you very much, Sam Harris and Christopher Hitchens (the author of the latest). Hitchens's book crackles with erudition. And, because I've become surer of my own tolerant position in the middle—where I "believe all things"—I'm finding it very entertaining.

For you to enjoy with me if you can, here are some excerpts from Chapter Five, "The Metaphysical Claims of Religion." I may have enjoyed this chapter particularly, because it sort of surveys the territory I trod as an undergraduate forty-five years ago:

...Aquinas half believed in astrology, and was convinced that the fully formed nucleus (not that he would have known the word as we do) of a human being was contained inside each individual sperm. One can only mourn over the dismal and stupid lectures on sexual continence that we might have been spared if this nonsense had been exposed earlier than it was...He also fabricated the mad and cruel idea that the souls of unbaptized children were sent to "Limbo." Who can guess the load of misery that this diseased "theory" has placed on millions of Catholic parents down the years, until its shamefaced and only partial revision by the church in our own time? Luther was terrified of demons and believed that the mentally afflicted were the devil's work. Muhammad is claimed by his own followers to have thought, as did Jesus, that the desert was pullulating with djinns, or evil spirits. [p.64] ...Laplace (1749-1827) was the brilliant French scientist who took the work of Newton a stage further and showed by means of mathematical calculus how the operations of the solar system were those of bodies revolving systematically in a vacuum. When he later turned his attention to the stars and nebulae, he postulated the idea of gravitational collapse and implosion, or what we now breezily term the "black hole." In a five-volume book entitled Celestial Mechanics he laid all this out, and like many men of his time was also intrigued by the orrery, a working model of the solar system as seen, for the first time, from the outside. These are now commonplace but were then revolutionary, and the emperor asked to meet Laplace in order to be given either a set of the books or (accounts differ) a version of the orrery. I personally suspect that the gravedigger of the French Revolution wanted the toy rather than the volumes: he was a man in a hurry and had managed to get the church to baptize his dictatorship with a crown. At any event, and in his childish and demanding and imperious fashion, he wanted to know why the figure of god [Hitchens doesn't capitalize the word] did not appear in Laplace's mind-expanding calculations. And there came the cool, lofty, and considered response. "Je n'ai pas besoin de cette hypothèse.".... [pp.66-67] One medieval philosopher and theologian who continues to speak eloquently across the ages is William Ockham.... He was interested, for example, in the stars. He knew far less about the nebulae than we do, or than Laplace did. In fact, he knew nothing about them at all. But he employed them for an interesting speculation. Assuming that god can make us feel the presence of a nonexistent entity, and further assuming that he need not go to this trouble if the same effect can be produced in us by the actual presence of that entity, god could still if he wished cause us to believe in the existence of stars without their being actually present. "Every effect which God causes through the mediation of a secondary cause he can produce immediately by himself." However, this does not mean that we must believe in anything absurd, since "God cannot cause in us knowledge such that by it a thing is seen evidently to be present though it is absent, for that involves a contradiction."... ...It has taken us several hundred years since Ockham to come to the realization that when we gaze up at the stars, we very often are seeing light from distant bodies that have long since ceased to exist. It doesn't particularly matter that the right to look through telescopes and speculate about the result was obstructed by the church; this is not Ockham's fault and there is no general law that obliges the church to be that stupid...[W]e can now do this [knowing] while dropping (or even, if you insist, retaining) the idea of a god. But in either case, the theory works without that assumption. You can believe in a divine mover if you choose, but it makes no difference at all, and belief among astronomers and physicists has become private and fairly rare. [pp. 69-70]Credo quia absurdum, as the "church father" Tertullian put it, either disarmingly or annoyingly according to your taste. "I believe it because it is absurd." It is impossible to quarrel seriously with such a view. If one must have faith in order to believe something, or believe in something, then the likelihood of that something having any truth or value is considerably diminished. The harder work of inquiry, proof, and demonstration is infinitely more rewarding, and has confronted us with findings far more "miraculous" and "transcendent" than any theology. Actually, the "leap of faith"—to give it the memorable name that Soren Kierkegaard bestowed upon it—is an imposture. As he himself pointed out, it is not a "leap" that can be made once and for all. It is a leap that has to go on and on being performed, in spite of mounting evidence to the contrary. This effort is actually too much for the human mind, and leads to delusions and manias. Religion understands perfectly well that the "leap" is subject to sharply diminishing returns, which is why it often doesn't in fact rely on "faith" at all but instead corrupts faith and insults reason by offering evidence and pointing to confected "proofs." This evidence and these proofs include arguments from design, revelations, punishments, and miracles. Now that religion's monopoly has been broken, it is within the compass of any human being to see these evidences and proofs as the feeble-minded inventions that they are. [p. 71]

Ah, my potato-sack miracle! my two angelic interventions! Reading Hitchens leaves me with the contented feeling of a reader enjoying himself and not feeling dismayed by the multifarious contradictions of a world that seems more and more to be mad enough to have been made by the Being its beings into Being prayed.

People can (and will!) continue to believe what they want to believe, and I will not condemn them, so long as they do so benignly, not proselytizing me or others or trying to tyrannize us in any way.

2 comments:

When Kepler figured out his laws of planetary motion, he penned a praise to God, which he inserted right there in his scientific treatise. If you didn't know better, you'd think it was a Bible psalm:

"The wisdom of the Lord is infinite; so also are His glory and His power. Ye heavens, sing His praises! Sun, moon, and planets glorify Him in your ineffable language! Celestial harmonies, all ye who comprehend His marvelous works, praise Him. And thou, my soul, praise thy Creator! It is by Him and in Him that all exists. That which we know best is comprised in Him, as well as in our vain science. To Him be praise, honor, and glory throughout eternity." [The Harmony of the World, 1619, re his 3rd Law of Planetary Motion]

Most scientists back then shared similar sentiments. When they discovered new aspects of science, they viewed it as uncovering evidence of God's design, and they praised him accordingly.

Do you really think that modern people aren't appreciative? I doubt it's true, since there's so much more now to appreciate (for one thing). There may even be more people (in sheer numbers) who feel appreciative toward God (that is, thank God for things they appreciate). Whether there's a greater proportion of such people, possibly not...no, probably not, in my opinion, because people know more now and are aware, for example, of the learning and efforts of men (and women) in designing and producing things that they appreciate.

Anyway, yes, I agree: Kepler's pæne to God is much like a psalm! Nice.

Steve Glossin, co-founder of this blog. Three novels: Prophecy of the Medallion, Watch List, and Death Mask, edited by Morris Dean and originally published as Kindle & Nook books, but unfortunately no longer available. Nor are their revised versions, published as Kindle books under the pen name R Randall, any longer available: The Imam of the Cave, Trip Wire, and Gamal’s Assassin. The world’s loss.

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Editor in Chief, Moristotle, aka Morris Dean. Writer and editor since mother's teat, in old age manages a weblog beat, sometimes opines in rhyming lines, and chooses words to set in measured feet. [favorite website]

Contributing Editors

Geoffrey Dean. Now living in Salt Lake City, after being based for over two decades in Bulgaria, where he was a founding music faculty member at the American University in Bulgaria and the cellist of the Sofia Quartet and Ardenza Trio.

James Knudsen. The Loneliest Liberal. Despite voting for Barack Obama twice, being a registered Democrat, actor, educator, yada yada yada—there are things that put him on the fringe. He's a US Marine (current Commandant General Amos sent out a memo: Can't say “former”) and a gun-owner. He likes to watch NASCAR but hates the hillbilly patriotism. “So what's a fella to do?”

Jonathan Price. A retired English professor, has taught courses in American literature and contemporary film both in California and abroad, including Portugal, Thailand, and Italy, is currently working on a memoir of his two Fulbright fellowships abroad.

Columnists

Bob Boldt. Filmmaker, writer, artist, and retired commercial film producer with an abiding sense of the inherent dissonance between appearance and reality, Bob pursues community organizing, poetry, publication, and still & video production in Jefferson, Missouri. He joined the staff as a contributing editor toward the end of 2014, and continued as a columnist in January 2017. A gallery of his visual work can be viewed at ello.co/deboldt. [Portrait painted by Jane B. Mudd]

James T. Carney. Student of history who likes to visit its monuments and museums and report on them with a critical eye and some humor. Attorney-at-law and long-time resident of Pittsburgh.

Christa Dean. A chamber and orchestral cellist, recitalist, conductor, and educator, she has performed extensively throughout North America, Europe, and Asia. She holds a Doctor of Musical Arts degree from the University of Minnesota.

Rolf Dumke. An economic historian whose life-long, wide-ranging interests in the arts and sciences were inspired by Yale College courses, which provided him a smorgasbord of great ideas. Has taught in Canadian and German universities, and today lives in Bavaria, near the Alps.

Kyle Garza. An avid proponent of bridging the perceived gap or schism between science and religion, he teaches English at a private Christian school in Southern California, is pursuing an MA degree in Apologetics from Houston Baptist University, and is a Science-Fiction fan, especially of authors Robert Heinlein and Isaac Asimov.

Penelope Griffiths. A resident of Cardiff, Wales, “once met never forgotten, sometimes not for the right reason but always for the open and honest way she conducts herself. You may not like what she does or says, but you will remember it and you will always come back for more.”

Valeria Idakieva. When not at work teaching English to Bulgarians and Bulgarian to students from other nationalities, or managing the International Chamber Music Academy in Kyustendil, Bulgaria, Valeria Idakieva [валерия идакиева] likes to go hiking or running in the mountains. And she reads into the night as long as she can remember herself.

Eric Meub. A practicing architect in California for thirty years, with an emphasis on healthcare design. He also writes and reads traditional verse: a wrestling match of form and feeling. A good contest shows us grips, holds, and moments of surrender we’ve never known before.

Victor L. (Vic) Midyett & Shirley Deane/Midyett. He’s a storyteller and man of all trades, and she’s an artist, therapist, and organizational management consultant. They are settled now in the port city of Fremantle, Western Australia, after spending three years among what Aussies call the “Gray Nomads,” roaming the Australian countryside.

Roger Owens. An old hippie surfer boy from Brevard County, Florida, a businessman who studied psychology and literature and loves to travel, fish, and read. His hobbies include politics and writing.

William Silveira. Former dirt farm boy with Portuguese roots in Tulare County and retired trial court judge from the same place.

Chuck Smythe. Retired astronomer and mountaineering instructor, spending his declining years studying music and skiing like a maniac.

Bettina Sperry. Business owner and intellectual farmer, educator, and lover of roses and all things botanical. Raises beef cattle, thoroughbred horses, and Shar Pei near the George Washington National Forest in the eastern mountains of West Virginia. The grass is always greener at Franklin Hill.

Past Members of the Staff

Paul Clark, aka motomynd. A contributing editor with Tom Lowe & Ken Marks when Moristotle became Moristotle & Co. Raised a meat-and-potatoes, hunting-and-fishing, NRA conservative, Paul “gave up on new-age fake conservatism after the con job that was Ronald Reagan” and “a bunch of extremist political hacks took over the NRA.” Breaking ties with the past, he became a vegan, an activist for animal rights, social causes, and environmental issues. The “motomynd” moniker derives from motorcycling, and is also the name of his website [click his photo to visit motomynd.com].

Tom Lowe (1945-2014). A contributing editor with Paul Clark & Ken Marks when Moristotle became Moristotle & Co. A visual artist and photographer, Tom lived in the San Francisco Bay Area until his death on October 24, 2014. He had increasingly found himself quoting Shakespeare’s Puck: “What fools these mortals be!”